


Stalked

by sussiekitten



Series: Obsession 'Verse [3]
Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood Drinking, Dragons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-06-21 06:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sussiekitten/pseuds/sussiekitten
Summary: Eragon thought the struggle against Formora had been hard. He thought wrong. Raising his son when the other father is a vampire was a lot tougher.





	1. Year One: The Aftermath of Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle.
> 
>  **Claimer:** I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, my original characters (Aksel and Ren) or story and I will report you. I also own my version of Saphira/Thorn's human appearances, and the universe and versions of the creatures I use in this story (hydras and chimeras in particular). 
> 
> **A/N:** This story was long in the making. Very, very long in the making. But it's finally here and I have the next chapter complete and ready to post in two weeks. So if you're a fan of the series, look out for that!

_::July::_

Eragon was in trouble and he knew it. After Formora had kidnapped him and injured him enough to send him to the hospital, his family had pushed up their vacation to come visit him. Eragon had to thank his lucky stars that work kept Roran from storming over right away. He needed all the time he could get to think and plan ahead. Dealing with an angry Roran was no easy task.

And now that Saphira was back from her one-week honeymoon after mating with Thorn, Eragon finally had someone to rant to.

"We don't even have a dorm room anymore!" Eragon said. He was currently pacing, though it did nothing to calm him. "Where am I supposed to tell them to go?!"

"Eragon, calm down." Saphira sighed. "Just tell them to meet us here."

Eragon paused and stared at her. "Here?! Murtagh's scent has got to be all over the place! Roran will go bonkers!"

Saphira visibly paused.

It was new on all of them. While Roran had been bitten by a werewolf two years ago now, there were still times when Eragon completely forgot about it. It hadn't quite sunk in yet. When it had happened, Eragon would have packed up and gone back to Teirm if it hadn't been for Roran insisting he'd stay.

 _'I have Katrina,'_ Roran had said. _'I'll be fine. You just focus on your studies.'_

Eragon had stayed. Now that he thought about it, he had met Murtagh not too long after Roran's transformation. His family had to be cursed.

Roran's bite was a curse Eragon really could live without, especially after the past year's events. Everyone knew that vampires and werewolves hated each other. Roran would smell Murtagh's fading scent and shit would hit the fan. Eragon needed a slower approach. He needed to explain to his family that he would be dead right now if it hadn't been for Murtagh. Otherwise Eragon knew Roran wouldn't rest until he tracked down Murtagh and killed him.

"Well, Nasuada and Arya are moving back to their place. We could ask to borrow it?"

Eragon sighed. "They'll ask why. At least staying with Brom would be understandable."

Saphira bit her lip and visibly thought things over.

"And I really don't feel like asking Aksel if we can use his place."

"You mean their place," Saphira corrected him.

Eragon paused. "Huh?"

She smiled. "Vanir and Aksel are moving in together."

Eragon blinked.

"It might seem like it's a little early, but I think they can do it," Saphira said and smiled.

Eragon blinked again. Aksel was terrible at keeping secrets, but he had heard nothing about this. Either it was a very recent development or Aksel had kept it from him. Then again, Eragon had been very distracted lately. He could just as easily have forgotten Aksel telling him.

"...It's their call," Eragon said and went back to pacing.

Saphira sighed again. "Why don't you meet them in a public place like a café or something?"

Eragon paused. That was actually a good idea. He wouldn't even have to bring Ren with him if he wanted to minimize the shock a bit. His family was about to get the shock of their life, after all. Not only had Eragon gone and gotten himself mated to a vampire, but he also had a son. Also, Roran's screams would most likely upset Ren.

"Saph, could you –"

"Watch Ren for you? Sure." She winked at him.

Eragon smiled at her. "You're a lifesaver."

Saphira flipped her hair over her shoulder. "And don't you forget it."

Eragon lasted about two seconds before he started to laugh. Saphira was right behind him.

**::STALKED::**

To say that Eragon was nervous would be an understatement. His family had agreed to meet him at the café next to the college. It was a little out of the way for Brom's house, but it was close to his previous apartment. He knew he was overthinking the whole thing, but he needed this to go as smoothly as possible. Roran was definitely not going to take Eragon's situation well and he wanted him as far away from Ren as possible when he blew up.

Eragon drummed his fingers against the table top as he waited. He hadn't seen Roran or Katrina since the Christmas before he met Murtagh. He had barely remembered to keep in touch. His mind had been focused on surviving Murtagh and bringing a child into the world. Everything else had faded into the background.

He flinched when the bell over the entrance jingled. He looked over and saw his family enter.

Roran entered with an arm around his fiancée. Roran had inherited his late father's built, height and sharp eyes. The only thing Eragon had been able to tell came from Roran's mother was Roran's blond hair. Roran had muscles from working as a contractor and from the werewolf virus in his system.

Katrina was a sharp contrast to them both. She was thin and only a couple of inches taller than Eragon. Her vibrant red hair was pulled into a loose bun for the day. She had kind green eyes and a gentle smile for everyone. But as she was Roran's fiancée, she also had a temper to match his. Roran was rarely allowed to do anything she disapproved of and it was just not because she would throw him out on his arse for it.

Katrina was at Eragon's table first. "Eragon," she said fondly and hugged him.

"Hey Kat," he said and hugged her back.

"You've grown," she said and sat down at the table without waiting for Roran.

"Uh, not really, but thanks." Eragon got up to greet his cousin.

Roran had him swallowed in a bear-hug before Eragon had the time to blink. "How are you, cousin?"

Eragon wheezed. "Better if you'd let me breathe."

Roran laughed and ruffled Eragon's hair. He sat down next to Katrina and slung an arm around her shoulders. Katrina leaned against him.

Eragon had picked the table especially because it was in the corner of the shop, far away from the counter and the door. The tables closest to them were largely unoccupied. If things got loud, then at least they wouldn't be startling their immediate neighbours.

For all that Roran was acting jovial, Eragon knew there was more to it. There was something lurking in his eyes. He definitely wasn't in a good mood.

"So, how did you manage to land yourself in the hospital?" Roran asked.

Katrina swatted him gently, though Roran didn't even seem to register it.

Eragon silently wondered if it was too late to run to Surda with Ren and forget about this whole venture entirely. "Why don't we order something before I start to explain?"

A waitress came over then and quickly took their order. Eragon really appreciated the interruption. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to approach the issue without Roran blowing up.

"So, what happened?" Roran asked as soon as the waitress left.

Eragon bit his bottom lip. "Well, it's really a long story."

"You're stalling," Roran shot in. "You worried us, kid."

Eragon didn't even bother to reprimand Roran for calling him a kid. He was too nervous.

"...It's probably best if I start this at the beginning," Eragon said eventually.

Roran and Katrina were quiet as he talked. He told them about meeting Murtagh in April and finding out he was pregnant. He told them about how he discovered he was mated to Murtagh and that he spent the next several months hoping Murtagh wasn't coming there to hurt him. He told them about every encounter with Formora and her minions, but kept the details to a minimum. He only told them that someone had been hurt. Eragon told them about Ren and how he was incapable of regretting having him because he loved Ren so much. He told them about how Murtagh's demeanour slowly changed and that he was now a total different vampire than he was in the beginning.

He finished off by telling them about the kidnapping and how Murtagh had saved his and Ren's lives. He apologised for not having told them before, but that everything that had happened just kept him too busy to pick up the phone and call them.

His family hadn't spoken the entire time Eragon had been talking. Eragon had finished his soda water by the time he was finished with his story.

"You mean to tell us that you have been living at old man Teller's place for the past year and that you now have a son with a vampire who is also your mate?" Roran asked very calmly.

Eragon knew that voice. Roran only sounded calm when he was angry and two seconds away from exploding.

"That's right."

Roran was silent for about a minute before he exploded. "Are you insane, Eragon?!" he growled.

Eragon was amazed Roran wasn't screaming. Then again, he had picked a public setting to prevent just that. He knew Roran would start screaming at him the second they were away from prying eyes.

"I can't believe you followed a stranger to an alley and let him fuck you," Roran hissed. Roran's eyes flashed yellow and for a second Eragon was afraid the wolf was going to come out.

Katrina calmly smacked Roran in the back of his head. The yellow faded as quickly as it had come. "Language, Roran."

He stared at her in shock. "Aren't you mad?!"

"I'm not," she answered instantly. "It wasn't Eragon's fault. Vampires are charismatic creatures. Even you would have found yourself having trouble saying no if a male vampire tried to seduce you, Roran."

Roran's face paled and turned slightly green at the same time. Eragon had a problem holding back the hysterical laugh that wanted to escape.

"Eragon is brave for coming out here alone and telling us about this," Katrina continued. "He has had a tough year and I don't feel like making it any tougher for him."

"I love you, Kat," Eragon found himself saying.

Katrina's eyes twinkled.

Roran fell silent.

"But I really mean it when I say I'm sorry for waiting this long with telling you. It wasn't my intention," Eragon said and looked at his hands. "I just - I never had the time."

"I believe you," Katrina said and put a hand over his. She squeezed it gently.

Roran didn't look happy in the slightest. "Why couldn't you tell us this at Teller's place?"

For all that Roran looked calmer now, Eragon knew that was probably about to change. He sorely wished there was a way around it, but there really wasn't. "I didn't want your yelling to upset Ren. There has been enough discomfort around him."

"How old is Ren?" Katrina asked quickly.

Eragon wanted to hug her. Her question stopped Roran from asking any other questions for a little while at least.

"He was born on January 4th."

Katrina smiled. "Six months old, then?"

Eragon nodded. "Roughly."

He couldn't actually believe it had been six months since Ren was born. Sometimes it felt much longer, sometimes it felt like it had happened last week.

"I bet he's adorable," she said and winked at him.

"Uh, yeah. A bit," Eragon found himself agreeing.

Katrina paused suddenly and brushed a stray red curl behind her ear.

Eragon knew what was on her mind. It had been on his from the moment he knew he was carrying Murtagh's child. "He's completely human. Apparently I'm immune to Murtagh's venom, so he can't turn Ren or me. Ren has Murtagh's hair, but that's about it."

Her shoulders sagged a bit and she gave him a relieved smile. "I bet you were happy when you heard that."

He nodded. "But I'm not going to keep you guys away from him forever. I just wanted to tell you about it away from him."

"Understandable," Katrina said.

"So when can we see him?" Roran asked. Eragon could tell his cousin was trying to sound calm, but the hint of anger had crept back into his voice.

Eragon bit at the nail on his right thumb. "I'll have to ask Brom."

Eragon had never been more relieved that Murtagh had suddenly taken off last week. He knew Saphira missed Thorn like crazy, but right now it was a relief that Murtagh wasn't lurking around at Brom's place. If he had been there and Roran had demanded to visit...Eragon could barely hold back the urge to shudder.

Roran stared at him. "What aren't you telling us?"

Eragon shook his head. "I don't want to get into it here."

"Oh, so you can tell us about -" Roran visibly bit back whatever had been about to leave his mouth. "What's the difference between what you just told us and what you're keeping from us?"

Roran might as well have asked him to compare apples and oranges, Eragon thought to himself.

"It's complicated. I will tell you later."

Roran looked ready to get into it then and there, damn the consequences, but calmed when Katrina put a hand on his arm.

"We understand," she said.

"Speak for yourself," Roran said.

"We understand," she said again without even looking at Roran, smile fixed on her face.

Roran blanched and looked out the window.

Eragon had no idea what had just happened and a part of him really didn't want to know either.

**::STALKED::**

Eragon was finally able to stumble back to Brom's place after somehow successfully stalling Roran and Katrina for a couple days. He felt shaken and like he needed to throw up.

Saphira was on him as soon as he stepped across the threshold. "How did it go?"

"I managed to stall until this weekend," Eragon said. "But that's it. The cat will be out of the bag. Oh, Roran is going to kill me."

"I'd like to see him try," Saphira said as she guided him over to the couch.

Eragon put his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?"

Saphira put a hand on his shoulder. "Be honest with them."

Eragon had to bite back a whine. "But he'll kill me."

"You did what you had to do," Saphira said. "We all did. We would probably all be dead if we hadn't asked Murtagh for help. Make sure he understands that and -"

"He'll just fly off to kill Murtagh instead? Sounds like a brilliant plan."

Saphira sighed.

Eragon wrapped his arms around himself. He didn't know why he cared about this so much. He didn't know why he cared about _Murtagh_ so much. Their relationship – if it could be called that – had gotten off to a terrible start and wasn't that much better now. All right, so maybe Murtagh had stopped wanting to kill him, but that was really it. They weren't friends and certainly not anything closer than that. He barely knew anything about Murtagh and knew the situation was mutual.

And yet he couldn't stop caring about the asshole. It was driving him insane.

It was Ren. It had to be. He only cared because Murtagh was Ren's father. That had to be it.

"We'll figure this out," Saphira said softly.

Eragon really hoped so. Or they were so momentously screwed.

**::STALKED::**

The days flew by. Eragon was nowhere ready to see his family again by the time they were knocking on the door and Saphira was letting them in.

Eragon tried to keep his hold on Ren firm, but not too tight. It was difficult. He knew he had to be sending out distress signals considering the worry-line on Saphira's forehead and the light fussy sound Ren wouldn't stop making. Eragon took a deep breath and shifted his hold so he could rub Ren's back.

Katrina didn't hesitate in walking over to take a seat next to him. She said something, though Eragon couldn't quite hear what. He hedged his bets and nodded in answer.

Luckily, Katrina just smiled and started to coo at Ren.

Roran, however, lingered near the entrance of the room. His nose was wrinkled like he was smelling something foul.

"Aren't you going to come meet your nephew?" Katrina said without even looking away from Ren.

Eragon wasn't even ashamed to admit he was impressed when Roran instantly crossed the room and sat down next to Katrina, looking vaguely shame-faced. Of course, it didn't take him more than a second to squint down at Ren and lean closer to scent him.

"He's not what you're smelling," Saphira said as she sat down on the arm of the couch at Eragon's side.

Eragon wasn't even going to pretend he didn't want her to hover protectively over him and his son. He was terrified of what Roran would say or do and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

"Then what is it?" Roran asked, glancing up at her.

"Murtagh," Eragon found himself saying. He kept his eyes on Ren and therefore missed whatever expression Roran was making while he stayed completely silent. But that was ok. Eragon had seen him descend into rage enough that he could conjure the image from memory alone.

"He was here?" Roran asked. His voice was tight with – yep, he'd called it – anger.

"He was here, stalking the property outside to defend me and my son," Eragon said and forced himself to look up at his cousin and brother in everything but name. "I told you that."

Roran was staring back at him. His face was so red it was a wonder his blood-pressure hadn't blown it clean off his shoulders.

"What I didn't tell you is that he was in the house recuperating after the attack," Eragon admitted.

"INSI-"

Katrina didn't need to hear more before clapping a hand firmly over his mouth, but it was too late.

Ren let out a heart-breaking cry and started to squirm unhappily. Eragon held him close and got up to start rocking him.

"Brilliantly done, fiancé of mine," Katrina said, voice a hint sharper than normal. "Now look what you've done."

"He had a _vampire_ inside this -"

"That has nothing to do with what you've done," Katrina cut him off once again.

Eragon rocked Ren as best he could, humming under his breath like he knew Ren liked. But it wasn't helping. He was still crying.

"This is why he didn't want to tell you," Saphira said unceremoniously. "He knew you'd only upset Ren."

"Then he should have told me at the café!" Roran said, and Eragon saw him gesture out of the corner of his eye.

"He didn't want to air this in front of total strangers," Saphira said to that. "Can you blame him?"

"He had no problems airing the rest!"

"Because he knew he could talk you down if you knew that part."

"I'm sorry, I have to go put him down," Eragon said before everything could escalate into a proper shouting match. Roran wasn't shouting yet, but his voice was getting louder and Eragon didn't want to risk it.

He didn't want for an answer and simply headed for the room he and Ren had made into their own. He almost walked right into Brom on the way.

"Sorry!"

"No bother," Brom said gruffly, looking back the way Eragon had come. "Your cousin has some lungs on him."

Eragon flushed. "Yeah. Sorry. We wanted to do this while you were out." He shifted his hold on Ren, but he still wouldn't stop crying.

"Meeting got cut short," Brom answered before Eragon could ask. "Here, I'll take him."

Eragon hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't trust Brom with his son. He wouldn't be living in Brom's house if that were the case. But right now Ren was his excuse to be away from Roran's shouting and he really didn't want to go back to it.

Brom plucked Ren expertly out of Eragon's arms before he could voice any objections.

"We all have to do things in life that we don't want to do," Brom said as he wrinkled his nose. "Like change a baby's diaper."

Eragon blinked before it clicked. Of course Ren couldn't be consoled if he was upset about the screaming and a wet diaper. "Oh no, you shouldn't have to -"

"I said I'd do it," Brom said as he walked past Eragon and towards the guest bathroom where all of Ren's things were. "Go back to your cousin and make sure he understands the difference between indoor and outdoor voices."

Eragon stared longingly after Brom's back, only feeling slightly ashamed that he was jealous of Brom for being able to stay away to change Ren's diaper, before he slowly made his way back into the living room.

Roran, unsurprisingly, was still being loud about what was currently displeasing him.

"Brom wants us to keep it down," Eragon said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over Roran's rant.

Saphira frowned. "He's back?"

"The meeting got cut short," Eragon said, shrugging.

"Great. Then I can give him a piece of my mind," Roran said, already halfway across the room before Katrina could catch up with him and physically stop him from taking another step.

"You're staying right here and talking to Eragon," she said firmly.

Roran looked ready to argue, but one look from Katrina silenced him. It silenced him to the point where Katrina was able to pull him back to the couch and force him to sit back down, all without saying another word.

"So, why don't you fill us in on the rest," Katrina suggested, like Roran hadn't spent the last five minutes practically screaming his lungs out.

Eragon bit his lip.

Saphira resumed her original seat and gave Eragon an encouraging look.

Eragon sighed. "All right." He walked back to the couch. "But no more screaming. If upsetting my son isn't enough of a reason, then know that Brom looked really serious about that point. He's a former Dragon Rider, you know."

Roran looked like he had in fact not known that.

Eragon sighed and only jumped a little when Saphira reached out and took his hand. He squeezed it in thanks. "I guess I should go back to the first attack here."

**::STALKED::**

Brom had offered Katrina and Roran one of the many guest rooms and practically stared Roran into submission when he'd tried to turn down the offer. Eragon wasn't sure how he felt about his cousin – who was still angry about the whole vampire thing – sleep in the same house that said vampire had spent a week in, but there was no way around it now.

Waking up to find Roran sitting awkwardly in Brom's kitchen while Katrina puttered around like she was at home was somehow stranger, though.

"Morning," Eragon said as he made for the fridge to get a bottle ready for Ren.

"Good morning," Katrina said with a smile.

Roran grunted in what Eragon recognised as his pre-coffee greetings. Apparently some things never changed.

"How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Heavenly," Katrina said as she put some pancakes on the kitchen isle. "I have to know what those mattresses are made of. I need one."

"Probably magic," Eragon said with a half-smile.

Katrina laughed.

"Are you using this?" Eragon pointed at the stove.

"No, I'm all done." Katrina put a cup that smelled strongly of coffee in front of Roran.

Roran grunted his thanks before practically falling into the cup in his haste to drink from it.

"Great." Eragon filled a pot with water and started heating it.

"And I made enough for everyone, so please help yourself when you're done."

Eragon blinked. "Thank you."

"It's the least I could do," Katrina said. "Mr. Teller is being nice enough to let us stay, after all."

"I thought he told you to call him Brom," Eragon said while he checked on the water. Making sure it was the temperature he wanted, he grabbed the bottle and put it in.

"I'm sure he did," was all Katrina said.

"Could you keep an eye on this?" Eragon gestured at the stove. "I have to go get Ren."

Katrina smiled. "Of course."

Eragon thanked her before heading back to his room.

Ren was awake when Eragon stepped in. Eragon had thought as much.

"You hungry?" he asked as he bent down to pick Ren up.

Ren's low whining certainly suggested that he was.

Eragon held him close and murmured softly to him as he headed back to the kitchen. He wasn't keeping track of what he was saying. Hopefully it wasn't anything too embarrassing.

Katrina smiled at them when Eragon carried Ren into the kitchen. Eragon smiled back before hurrying to check on the bottle.

"Do you need help?"

"No, I got it," Eragon said distractedly as he checked the temperature. Nodding to himself, he turned off the stove and took the bottle out. Then it was only a matter of getting Ren situated in his arms while he tried to show his son that slow was the best policy when it came to eating.

"You're really good at this," Katrina said softly.

Eragon barely managed to hold back a blush. "Thanks." He bit at his lip. "I've sort of had to get good at it, you know?"

Katrina's next smile was tinged with something that looked like sadness and understanding.

"What, is the old man not a good babysitter?" Roran said into his coffee, voice still rough from sleep.

"Oh no, Brom is great," Eragon answered. "He's just really busy most of the time. But that's ok. I wouldn't have had Ren if I wasn't prepared to take care of him."

Katrina looked proud of him. Eragon had to look away.

"Do you think he'll be joining us?" Katrina asked. "Brom?"

Eragon shook his head. "I rarely see him around before noon, or around dinner time. He's prepping for this year's classes, I think."

"I feel like I know him from somewhere," Roran said, frown on his face.

"Well, he has been living here since forever, I think," Eragon said. "You could have seen him around."

"Or maybe he was a friend of Garrow's," Katrina said and rubbed Roran's arm.

Roran snorted. "I doubt it."

"Well, the only way you'll find out is if you ask him," Katrina said and poked him with the blunt end of her fork.

Roran grumbled under his breath, clearly not happy with that idea.

"Do you have any plans for the day?"

Eragon blinked. "Eh, not really?" He shrugged as much as he could with a baby in his arms. "My life pretty much revolves around this guy now. You'll see when you have kids."

Roran choked on a mouthful and Eragon honestly had to keep himself from laughing.

Katrina did no such thing, however. She laughed, rubbing her fiancé's back. "Then you wouldn't mind if we asked to babysit for some practice?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

"Of course not," Eragon said. "Officially, Ren has to approve being babysat by you two, but unofficially, there isn't anyone he hasn't met so far that he doesn't like. So I think we're good."

Roran drowned the last of his coffee in a desperate attempt to stop coughing. "You're trying to kill me," he croaked. "Both of you."

"I have a Rider bond and therefore magic," Eragon said. "You'd know if I was trying to kill you."

"Ditto, fiancé, dear," Katrina said and kissed Roran's cheek.

Roran scowled at them both before going back to his breakfast.


	2. Year One: Mischief Afoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** I'm feeling a little under the weather currently, but I will answer your reviews as soon as I feel better. :) 
> 
> _-Speech.-_ Murtagh/Thorn talking to each other mentally.

_::July::_

All in all, Thorn caught up with him rather quickly. Murtagh was in Aroughs, staring across the water at the dreadful islands beyond when a familiar heartbeat came up behind him.

"Well, that didn't take you long," Murtagh said, not turning around.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Thorn asked brusquely.

"It means that I thought for sure you'd at least stay a week with your new bride." Murtagh held up a hand. "Ah, sorry. _Mate_."

Thorn spluttered. "How did you –"

"I may have been drifting in and out of conscience back at Teller's place, but I'm neither deaf nor blind," Murtagh said bluntly. "Besides, that mating dance of yours has been going on for a while."

Thorn was silent for a blissful few moments. "And you didn't try to dissuade me?"

"What good would it have done?" Murtagh slipped his hands into his pockets and turned his back on the blasted islands. "You're stubborn. I'd have more luck getting a mule to move."

"Funny," Thorn deadpanned. He gave Murtagh a scrutinising look. "I'm not going to like why we're here, am I?"

Murtagh shrugged. "You could always leave."

Thorn rolled his eyes. "I think it's a little late for that."

"Well, I'm not _actually_ on the boat yet, so," Murtagh looked at him pointedly.

Thorn frowned. "What boat? Going where?"

Oh, this was going to be _fun_.

**::STALKED::**

"No. Absolutely not."

Murtagh hadn't been wrong. Listening to Thorn as he went on one of his infamous harangues could either be mind-numbingly boring or absolutely hilarious. Luckily this time it was the latter.

"I will not stand for this," Thorn said, gripping the railing. "I won't. This is suicide."

Murtagh had to fight to keep the laughter at bay. Thorn hadn't stopped since Murtagh had let him in on his plan. He had kept going all the way down to the city proper, as Murtagh led them to the docks and while they were boarding the ferry. They were now steadily making their way to main island and he was still going.

"I told you, you don't have to come with me."

"Of course I do!" Thorn spluttered. "You're liable to get yourself killed otherwise!"

"Funny. Your pipe has been playing a different tune lately," Murtagh told him. "I mean after all, and do correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't you sworn to kill me on multiple occasions?"

"That's different!" Thorn protested. "That was because you were being a complete and utter homicidal maniac! You were two seconds away from going after the wrong guy and ending up in the ground. This is -"

"The same thing?" Murtagh offered.

"Not even!" Thorn gestured at him angrily. He paused. "Well, semantically speaking it is, because you are definitely going after the wrong guy and you will end up in the ground if this goes wrong, but you know it's not the same."

"Well -"

"No," Thorn interrupted. "Hunters are one thing. The Council is quite another."

They fell silent.

Not many people had cause to travel to the islands clustered to the south-west of Alagaësia. After all, why would they? That was vampire territory. Anyone who didn't have business there didn't come back alive. Even people who were summoned didn't always return.

Murtagh, who had yet to get his official summon, was treading on thin ice. But then he had never danced to anyone's tune but his own. The summons was going to come one day or another. He was just beating them to the punch.

Save the crew, it was just him and Thorn on the boat. They were the only ones getting off and – while the ferry did stop by the island twice a day – they were likely the only ones getting back on it again. If they were lucky.

"You knew this day would come," Murtagh said eventually.

Thorn sighed heavily. "Of course I did. You've always been too reckless for your own good."

"Well, I'm trying this new thing called facing the consequences of my actions." Murtagh looked over at Thorn. "I thought you'd like that."

Thorn looked pained. "You would think. And yet."

Murtagh rolled his eyes. "It's not that I have a death-wish -"

Thorn made a sound of blatant disbelief.

"Fine, it's not that I have _much_ of a death-wish, but this is something I have to get ahead of." Murtagh looked over at the steadily approaching island. "I don't know if Durza got word to them before I dealt with him. I need to contain this. I can't afford them coming after me."

There were a million things he wasn't saying and Murtagh had a feeling Thorn knew each and every one of them.

"I still think we should have grabbed everyone and fled across the desert," Thorn said lowly.

"Teller would have scalped me."

Thorn gave him a shocked look.

"What?" Murtagh crossed his arms. "He has that look about him, doesn't he? I bet he's done it before."

Thorn shuddered. "Your mind is such a dark and strange place."

Murtagh smirked. "Well, you would know."

**::STALKED::**

The ferry dropped them off without ceremony. In fact, they barely waited until Thorn had jumped off before reversing out of the bay.

Murtagh watched it go amusedly. He gave them a jaunty little wave just because he knew it would freak out the crew.

Thorn shook his head. "Come on. Your execution awaits."

"You don't have to sound so enthusiastic about it," Murtagh told him with a wicked grin.

Thorn sighed wearily.

It was still light enough that most of the city was fairly empty. Some vampires were dreadfully predictable that way. They liked to live up to the stereotype. Normally Murtagh would have taken the time to scoff them, but now he was only glad. The less resistance they encountered the better.

Eoam was known to most people as the vampire capital. Anyone untainted knew to stay well clear. Thorn – as well as any werewolf – was mostly safe. Most vampires considered their blood no more above that of an animal. Elves, however, would have been fair play. Murtagh took a minute to imagine bringing Vanir along and almost laughed. For all his irritating traits, he still would have gotten snatched up in a heartbeat.

Some shutters creaked as they walked down the main street. Curtains fluttered. A few faces peeked through cracked doors. Murtagh ignored all of them.

The Council spent most – if not all – of their time in the castle in the middle of the island, high up in the mountains. They could probably see everything from up there. Not to any great detail, true, but enough.

_-Have you been here before?-_

Murtagh wasn't overly surprised that Thorn didn't want to talk out loud anymore. The danger of being overheard was quite real.

 _-No,-_ he answered. _–Morzan never took me here and I can't say I'm sorry about it. It seems dreadfully boring, doesn't it?-_

 _-I really don't think this is the time for jokes,-_ Thorn said.

_-You'd worry if I wasn't making sarcastic remarks and you know it.-_

Thorn just sighed.

A few people started walking out of their homes by the time they were reaching the incline that would take them up into the mountains. No one approached them, but Murtagh felt distinctly watched. He felt the urge to glare at them and see how they liked it, but kept the urge at bay. It would do him no good. After all, these people were his kind. He knew what to expect from them.

There was a reason he avoided other vampires. He really and truly hated them. He hated how they looked at him, how they spoke to and about him. He especially hated what they seemed to expect from him.

And now he was going to the people that expected the most from him.

 _-It's ok if you're scared,-_ Thorn said.

Murtagh wanted to laugh. _–Why, because you are?-_

_-I'm fucking terrified, thank you very much.-_

_-My, my. You kiss your mate with that mouth?-_ Murtagh said, knowing full well how amused he sounded.

_-This really isn't funny, Murtagh! Do you have any idea what you're going to say?-_

_-But of course,-_ he answered. _–So sorry to interrupt, gentle-vampires and ladies, but I seem to have slaughtered some more of your brethren. Terribly sorry about that, but it was a matter of life and death. You understand. Ta, now!-_

"Murtagh!"

Murtagh turned and looked at him. "Yes?"

Thorn looked conflicted. Anger, of course, soon won out. Thorn was predictable like that.

"This is nothing to make light of and you know it," he hissed.

"I am most likely going to my doom," Murtagh deadpanned. "I'm aware, thanks."

Thorn looked like he was very close to tearing his hair out. Murtagh almost wanted to antagonise him some more just to see if he would.

"Look," he said eventually, "I'll just have to explain it to them. That's all."

" _That's_ all?" Thorn echoed incredulously.

"Without mentioning our new friends or my actual reasons for going after our dearly departed acquaintances, yes, that's all."

Thorn rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm going to be sick."

"There's some bushes over there," Murtagh gestured. "Knock yourself out."

"Do you even know _who_ you're going to?"

Murtagh shrugged before starting to walk again. "The current leader and whoever is still on the council. Beyond that? No."

"We're screwed," Thorn muttered. "So screwed. Why did I agree to this?"

"You can still -"

"If you say 'leave', I will  _throttle you_."

**::STALKED::**

The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the castle. Murtagh knew they could have flown the way there and probably have been done with it all by now, and knew Thorn knew it too. But he also knew that they both had needed more time than that. Time to think and prepare.

It wasn't often that Murtagh felt scared, but he did now. His mind had felt...calmer, clearer, since Eragon. Well, since certain events with Eragon. After he'd stopped being in denial and wanting to kill the kid. Before that, not so much.

Things were different now, though. It wasn't like he loved the kid. Far from it. He barely knew him. But he didn't want the council to hunt down Eragon and his family either. Because that was exactly what they'd do if Murtagh let it slip exactly how they were connected.

Murtagh had been interesting before. He'd come from a long and powerful line. A line of unmated vampires siring new and equally unmated vampires. Morzan had been the first break in the cycle, not that anyone besides Murtagh knew. He hadn't done that out of respect for Morzan – on the contrary. He still hated his father as much as he'd done the day he took his life. Murtagh had just never seen the point in letting the vampire community know just exactly Morzan's demise had come about.

He considered for a moment how different life would have been if Morzan had gotten over himself like Murtagh was starting to. Would he have been raised by Morzan and his mate? Would he have even met Eragon then?

But it was pointless to think about such things. Morzan was long dead and his _dear_ mate probably thanked Murtagh every day for it. There was no point in linger over 'what if's – not when Murtagh could very well be walking to his death.

"You ok?"

Murtagh glanced over at Thorn. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you've been quiet for a while now," Thorn said.

"Hm," Murtagh hummed, "I don't know how to break this to you, Thorn, but sometimes I actually do stop talking."

"Gods forbid," Thorn drawled.

"Careful now. You don't want the Council to hear you actually have Gods." Murtagh smirked.

Thorn rolled his eyes. "Why did I even open my mouth?"

"I ask myself the same question every day," Murtagh told him as he approached the castle gate.

"Why you open your mouth?"

"No, why you do," Murtagh countered.

The gate opened as if by magic as soon as Murtagh got close enough. They swung inwards, creaking eerily all the while. Murtagh rolled his eyes at the spectacle. Vampires were so _dramatic_.

"Come on," he said. "I do believe we're expected."

"Have I mentioned that I think this is a terrible idea?" Thorn said as they walked over the threshold.

"Not in the last five minutes," Murtagh said. "You were due for another rendition, I'm sure."

"I hate you so much."

"Love you too, snookums."

" _So much_."

The gate slammed shut behind them. Thorn jumped and turned around sharply.

"Relax," Murtagh said. He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked around calmly. "If we need a quick exit, the best way is always up."

Thorn shuddered. "I really don't like this."

"Then now is the time to make your monologue internal," Murtagh said. "We wouldn't want to offend our hosts now do we?"

Thorn said something that sounded more like dragonspeak than the common tongue. A wise choice on his part. The people they were meeting were fluent in most languages – the old ones included – but not in dragonspeak. It was difficult to master unless you were a dragon yourself.

The doors across the courtyard opened as if by themselves. Three figures glided out of the darkness and stopped just shy of the stairs leading down into the courtyard itself.

Murtagh kept his demeanour calm.

"Murtagh Morzansson," the one in the front said. "We have been expecting you."

Murtagh smiled coolly. "Good. I would have hated to have made this trip in vain."

Thorn made a faint, disbelieving sound, but the vampires didn't even look his way. Good. If they were focused on Murtagh then Thorn was safe.

"Come with us," the same vampire said.

"It would be my pleasure," Murtagh replied. _To stake you in the heart,_ he finished internally.

The three vampires turned, practically in unison, and glided back into the castle.

Thorn shuddered again.

"You can wait for me out here if you'd rather," Murtagh said as he made to follow them.

"And leave you to get yourself killed?" Thorn said as he fell into step with him. "I already told you, I'm not leaving."

"Your loss."

A part of Murtagh hoped it wouldn't lose Thorn his life.

**::STALKED::**

The eerie trio took them to a large, open room somewhere in the middle of the castle. Or so Murtagh guessed. Vampires seemed to favour long and winding corridors and impossible layouts. He could probably backtrack his way out of there, but a part of him wanted to just fly out of a window just for the hell of it. Fuck pretentious asshole vampires and their stupid castles.

The leader of the council was sitting on a hideous and pretentious as hell throne against the opposite wall. He was flanked by a few other council members, but Murtagh didn't really care about them.

He'd only met Galbatorix King a few times in his life, and each time he swore would be the last. Of course he was never that lucky. Galbatorix preferred to keep his eyes blacked over like he wanted to remind everyone of who and what he was. He looked just as slick and oily as Murtagh knew he was. For fuck's sake, the guy even wore an honest to god ornate cape. If there was anyone that lived by the stereotype, it was Galbatorix.

"Murtagh, my boy," Galbatorix said, voice warm. He spread his arms like he was welcoming Murtagh home.

Murtagh forced himself to cross the room. He couldn't let these dickheads see that he was worried.

"My liege," he said, stopping a suitable distance in front of the throne and taking a bow.

"Oh, none of that," Galbatorix said, but not before Murtagh had completed the bow and straightened again. "We're all family here."

Galbatorix and Morzan had been close once, before Murtagh had come into the world. Murtagh wasn't sure what had happened after that, but he'd only seen Galbatorix a handful of times. And he knew that if Morzan was smart enough to be cautious, then he'd be stupid not to follow in his late father's footsteps.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Murtagh kept his eyes on the gaudy rings Galbatorix apparently still liked to wear. He took even breaths and made sure to keep his heart-rate steady and slow. "I don't know how much you've heard about what happened on Illium -"

Galbatorix, for some strange reason, started to laugh.

Murtagh allowed himself to raise his eyes enough to stare at the intricate brooch that kept the cape wrapped around Galbatorix's frame.

"Think nothing of it, my boy," Galbatorix said, sounding almost fond. "It was doomed to happen one day. I am honestly surprised it took you this long."

Murtagh had to physically hold himself not to look Galbatorix in the eye. "My lord?"

"You have been a torn in Durza's side since he learned of your existence," Galbatorix said, clearly amused. "I knew you two would come to blows eventually. I'm not angry at all, my boy. I'm proud."

Murtagh found himself staring Galbatorix in the eye before he could tell himself to stop.

Galbatorix was smiling. Murtagh could just see his fangs poking through. "You bested five of my strongest vampires all by yourself. Why," Galbatorix gestured with his right hand, "we should be throwing you a feast!"

This...was not going the way Murtagh had thought it would. He could feel Thorn's disquiet and disbelief like it was his own.

"I have been waiting for this day for a long time, Murtagh." Galbatorix rose out of his seat. Every alarm in Murtagh's body went off at once. "You're finally ready."

Shit. Galbatorix thought he'd done all that to get a seat on the council. Shit, fuck, damn.

_-Murtagh?-_

_-I'll fix this.-_

_-How?-_

Fuck if Murtagh knew. "I was just defending myself, my lord," he said as smoothly as he could.

Galbatorix's smile just widened. "Of course."

"And I wouldn't dream of putting anyone out of their seat," he continued.

"Of course not," Galbatorix agreed, still smiling. "Luckily we seem to be in possession of a few vacancies, so there is no need for you to worry about that, my boy."

Murtagh went through every curse word he knew and invented a few more on the spot. It still didn't quite sum up how panicked he felt.

"As honoured as I am," _which was not at all_ , he thought to himself, "I fear I have to decline."

A chill went through the room at his words.

"Decline?" Galbatorix echoed. "Nonsense, my boy. This is where you belong. With us."

Oh boy.

"Ah, but I have always been more of a free spirit," Murtagh said, scrambling for anything to say that wouldn't get his head chopped off in an instant. "You know, like my father was."

He loathed to make the comparison, but if it spared him from having to take drastic measures he'd do it.

"I see," Galbatorix said, though Murtagh seriously doubted that. He brought his hands together. "You still have a few wild oats to sow, hm?"

Murtagh just smiled in answer.

"Of course, the Council wouldn't dream of binding you down before your time." There was a gleam in Galbatorix's eyes that Murtagh instantly decided he didn't like. "After all, you have yet to sire an heir."

Murtagh wanted to laugh hysterically. He only just managed to swallow the urge.

"The Council will allow you time to find an appropriate candidate and sire a child before you return to us to your rightful place," Galbatorix said. "All you have to do is formally accept the position."

Well, apparently nothing short of 'fuck you, fuck your mother, fuck the horse you rode in on and especially fuck everything you stand for' was going to get it across that Murtagh wasn't going to join their sycophantic ranks. Great. He really had been hoping to avoid complete and utter bloodshed.

Fan. Fucking. Tastic.

"I am honoured," he lied through his teeth, "but I cannot accept this position."

"Nonsense," Galbatorix repeated. "Why else would you come here?"

"To explain my actions and beg forgiveness from the Council," Murtagh said as blandly as he could.

Galbatorix laughed. The other council members – his henchmen, really – hadn't moved or shown any signs of actual life or personality so far, not even to back Galbatorix up. Personally, Murtagh thought Galbatorix could at least had picked some henchmen that would laugh with him, but then who was he to judge? He didn't even have henchmen.

But apparently Murtagh's decision not to laugh along with Galbatorix seemed to hammer the truth home. It took Murtagh about a split second to start regretting his decision and life choices in the recent weeks, not to mention years.

"You are serious," Galbatorix said finally, and something about the way he said it made Murtagh very afraid indeed.

_-You'd better start getting ready.-_

_-I hate you so much,-_ Thorn replied, but he sounded scared too. Murtagh didn't blame him one bit.

"I am afraid so, sir," Murtagh said. "That is all I came here to say."

The room was so silent Murtagh could almost hear Thorn's heart beating rapidly in his chest.

"I see," Galbatorix said finally, and Murtagh didn't need to hear more. His face spoke volumes.

There was only one way out of the situation.

_-I think it's time to execute that exit strategy, Thorn.-_

_-What?-_

_-Transform!-_

To his credit, Thorn didn't need to be told twice. He shifted into his dragon shape and roared at the vampires at the other end of the room, wings unfurling and tail lashing off to the side. One of the vampires was knocked over by the bellow, taking one of their councilmembers with them.

Galbatorix, naturally, wasn't faced at all. There weren't enough curse words in all the languages in the world – dead or use – to fully underline how fucked they were.

Murtagh barely had time to jump onto Thorn's back and hold on before Thorn was in the air and blasting his way through the roof of the building. A part of Murtagh couldn't help but to think _good riddance_. The castle trend was cliché and needed to die out.

Murtagh didn't lift his head until he was sure it was safe from falling debris and by that time Thorn was fully in the air and flying as fast away from the island as he could. The wind was stinging his cheeks and he was holding on so tightly that it hurt, but there was no way he was changing his position now. He wanted to make it out of this alive.

A roar echoed from behind them. Thorn's alarm felt like an emphasis of Murtagh's. Since when did the Council have a dragon on their retainer?!

_-Just fly!-_

_-We are so dead,-_ Thorn said as he sped up, wings pumping almost frantically.

 _-Not yet.-_ Even though every muscle in his body told him to stop, Murtagh still turned to look over his shoulder.

The dragon was massive. It had to claw an even bigger hole in the roof in order to get out. Its scales glimmered darkly under the setting sun. Its wings were easily the span of both of Thorn's and it would be able to catch up with them in no time at all.

Murtagh felt a burst of some kind of hysterical feeling threatening to overtake him. He forced it down. _Not today, Satan_ , he thought to himself.

_-WHAT?!-_

Oops.

 _-That wasn't meant for you,-_ Murtagh said to Thorn.

_-That isn't comforting at all!-_

_-Just keep going.-_ Murtagh snuck another glance at the black dragon. _–It might be bigger than us, but we have the advantage of wanting to fucking survive.-_

 _-I hate to break it to you,-_ Thorn said, sounding faintly hysterical himself, _-but that is not much of an advantage!-_

Murtagh ignored that. _–And we can make sharper turns than it can.-_

_-That's fine and all, but not much help if we can't think of a way to lose them!-_

Murtagh felt vaguely chastised. He'd been referring to the dragon as 'it' when he could just as easily have used 'them'. Well, sue him for not being more worried about fleeing for his life than potentially offending the dragon chasing them.

 _-Just keep flying.-_ Murtagh looked around, mentally mapping their surroundings. _–I'll think of something.-_

_-Well, it had better be quick, or we're both toast!-_

Murtagh appreciated the joke, even though it was a little too on-point for his tastes right then. The last thing he wanted to think about was how very dead they were if he didn't come up with a solution soon.

_-Can you make it to the Beor Mountains?-_

_-That's your plan?!-_

Well, that wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement.

 _-We could hide in the mountains there, find a cave or a crevice,-_ Murtagh explained. _-I don't like the thought of bringing that into Surda and trying to evade it there.-_ He paused. _-Them, whatever.-_

 _-I really don't think we have enough of a head-start to make it there,-_ Thorn said, still sounding vaguely panicked.

Murtagh swore. He turned back to look at the dragon and had to bite back another swear. _-Thorn, I need you to send a fire-ball directly into their face. Right now.-_

 _-We're going to die,-_ Thorn thought, having at least audibly given into his panic. _-Hold on!-_

Murtagh barely had time to wonder what the hell Thorn was going to do before the massive chest underneath him puffed up and they were already midway through a barrel roll. He held on as tightly as he could, daring gravity to pull a fast one on him as he felt them go weightless as Thorn reached the top.

He was barely able to see the fireball flying towards its intended target before gravity hit him again, threatening to pull him off Thorn's back.

There was an angry roar behind them. Well, at least they knew that they'd hit their target. But Murtagh didn't really care much about that when Thorn's head was pointed straight at the water and didn't seem inclined to pull up at all.

_-Thorn?!-_

_-Just hold on!-_

Thorn skimmed along the surface before diving down, Murtagh would give him that, but the water was still bitching cold and dark as hell.

Murtagh held his breath, once again glad he didn't have to do such a pesky thing as breathe often, and waited. Thorn let them sink for a while before he started to swim in the direction of what Murtagh presumed was the shore.

Murtagh took a moment to look up, but the water was still above them. The darkening sky didn't help in illuminating their opponent either, who had the advantage of darker scales. But if they dove after Thorn, then at least it would make a really big splash. That, at least, wouldn't be hard to miss.

**::STALKED::**

They finally made it to land somewhere along the Surdan shoreline. Murtagh wasn't sure exactly where. It was the middle of the night, and a moonless night at that. He was lucky he could see as much as he could.

Thorn transformed back as soon as they were both on the shore. He looked drenched and absolutely miserably, but he wasn't alone in that.

"I'm guessing that wasn't according to plan?" Thorn said as they trudged along, heading south and further along the coastline if Murtagh had to guess. That would eventually put them along the edges of the Beor Mountains. It would be as good of a place as any to disappear. But there were still some issues with doing just that.

"I didn't really have a plan, per se," Murtagh found himself admitting.

Thorn spluttered wordlessly and nearly stumbled over his feet.

"And even if there had been a plan, I didn't know they had a dragon."

"And you wonder why I think you have a death-wish?!" Thorn hissed.

There was still a dragon-shaped spectre hanging above them. Maybe not directly above them, but Murtagh doubted they'd given up the chase so quickly. Talking quietly made sense, just in case. It certainly drew less attention than shouting.

"Not really."

Thorn said something under his breath in what sounded suspiciously like dragonspeak. Murtagh didn't need to understand it to know he was cursing up a storm.

"Please tell me you at least have a plan now," Thorn said once he was apparently done cursing.

Murtagh stopped. They'd reached a road that ran along the coastline. It was still too dark to tell whether it was well-travelled or not, but a road was a road. It would eventually lead them somewhere.

"We find a place, lay low for a while." He paused. "I guess reach out to your mate unless I want to die from starvation."

Thorn let out a muffled groan. Murtagh turned to see that he'd buried his head in his hands. Honestly. Thorn could be such a drama-queen.

"You didn't bring any supplies before you left?" Thorn said, sounding very tired.

"Of course I did, but I left it in Aroughs in case something like this were to happen," Murtagh said, crossing his arms. "And even then, there's no way I can stop by Carvahall regularly without raising a few flags. And that's the last thing I should do considering how much I pissed off the council."

Thorn still looked tired, but at least he wasn't voicing any protests. "So then we make our way to Aroughs and take it from there," he said instead.

"It doesn't change the fact that eventually you'll have to make it back without me," Murtagh said as he looked back at the shoreline. If his inner compass was correct, following the road north would take them in the direction they needed to go.

"No," Thorn said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"You heard what I said, Thorn," Murtagh said as he started to walk. "I can't go back, not until the council lose interest in me or are too dead to care. You'll have to be my contact there if you want me to stay fed."

"Vanir can do it," Thorn said as he hurried along to walk beside Murtagh.

Murtagh glanced at him. "And here I thought you'd jump at the chance to be back with your mate."

There was a long pause from Thorn.

"She doesn't need me right now," Thorn said eventually, sounding pained. "You do. So. I'm staying."

"You're such a stubborn ass," Murtagh breathed.

"It takes one to know one," Thorn countered.

Well, Murtagh thought, at least he wasn't wrong about that.


	3. Year One: Post-script

_::August::_

Katrina and Roran ended up deciding to stay for the better part of a month. They'd both taken vacation time to come up and see him and a few days in Katrina said that she wasn't leaving until she'd gotten to know her pseudo-nephew better. She'd also said something about Roran being free to leave earlier if he couldn't act like a mature and responsible adult, which had shut him up for almost a whole hour.

Living in close quarters with his cousin again felt both familiar and not. Things were different since the last time they'd been under one roof for longer than a weekend. Eragon had a baby and Roran, well. He had his own issues.

Watching Roran with Ren was nothing short of hilarious, though. He clearly had no idea what to do with a baby.

"You all right there, cuz?"

Roran sent him a glare.

Eragon tried not to laugh, but it was hard.

Ren had apparently decided that he loved tugging on Roran's hair and Roran was too afraid to discourage Ren. In Roran's defence, Ren had looked like he wanted to cry the first time he'd tried.

"This really is good practice for if you and Katrina decide to have kids," Eragon told him.

"Please don't remind me," Roran said tiredly. "If we have kids, it's 1/3 chance that they'll turn out like me. Do you know what raising werewolf kids is like?"

"No," Eragon said. "But then, neither do you."

"I've looked it up," Roran said as Ren tugged on his hair again. "We're going to have to baby-proof _everything_ because if we're really unlucky, the fangs will come in before the regular baby-teeth. And the shedding," he shuddered.

"They can shift that early?"

"If we're really unlucky, they'll want to spend most of their time shifted than not when they're very young," Roran said, sounding faintly strained. "I don't know if I'm prepared enough to be a parent, Eragon, let alone for someone that I'll need to teach to control their shift."

"Well, the good news is that you're not alone," Eragon said.

Roran paused and looked at him.

"Not – not like me," Eragon hurried to say. "I'm not raising – I mean, Ren's just human. We'll be fine."

"If you call this fine," Roran said and seemed to finally give up. He pulled the hair out of Ren's little fist, even though Ren tried his best to get it back. "I swear this kid is stronger than an average seven-month old."

"Of course he is," Eragon said as he took Ren back. Ren gave him a gummy smile and Eragon smiled right back. "He's part vampire."

Roran made a strangled sound. "But he's _human_."

Eragon handed Ren his favourite teething-ring to encourage him to stay away from his hair. "Yeah. But his other father is a vampire and I'm his mate. It means Ren is going to be stronger than most people his own age and have better senses, I think. There's a technical term for what he classifies as, but I've forgotten it."

Roran boggled at them.

"You didn't think he was a regular human, did you?" Eragon asked.

"Apparently that was too much to hope for," Roran said, voice tight.

"That is what Katrina meant when she said playing with Ren would be great practice, you know," Eragon couldn't help but point out. "If you do have werewolf kids, Ren's strength would be almost equal to theirs. At least at this age."

Roran rubbed at his forehead as he got up. "I think I need to go lay down."

"Ok. Say bye to Uncle Roran, Ren," Eragon said, bouncing Ren gently. Ren just babbled back and tried to give Eragon his teething-ring.

Roran groaned on his way out the room.

Eragon tried not to laugh too loudly and thanked Ren for the teething-ring instead.

**::STALKED::**

"Eragon, do you have some time?"

Eragon blinked. "Sure?"

Brom gestured for him to follow.

"Can you watch over Ren for a sec?" he asked Saphira, but she was already taking him before he could get the question out.

"As if you have to ask," Saphira said and shooed him. "Go."

Eragon kissed the top of Ren's head before hurrying after Brom.

Brom was waiting for him in the hallway, just out of sight from the living room. He didn't move when he saw Eragon approaching, meaning that while he probably just wanted to talk to Eragon alone rather than it being so private that they had to go to his office. For once.

"Do you remember the vampire couple I told you about?" Brom asked.

Eragon frowned. "You mean back before Murtagh -" he cut himself off.

The ever-present line on Brom's forehead deepened, just a little. "Yes."

Eragon nodded a little hesitatingly. "Yeah, I remember."

Brom folded his arms over his chest and nodded sharply. "I was wondering if you'd still wanted to meet them."

"Now?" Eragon blurted.

Brom shook his head. "But I'd like to call and ask when they'd be free, if that works for you?"

Eragon nodded numbly.

"Good." Brom hesitated. "You don't have to say yes for my sake, boy. I hope you know that."

"Of course, Brom," Eragon heard himself say before he could think it. Or maybe as he thought it. "I think -" he stopped. "I think, now more than ever, I need to see that it actually can work. Even if it won't work for me."

Brom put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "All right," he said, voice a little rougher than it had been. "I'll give them a call and let you know when."

Eragon nodded before going back to Saphira and his kid.

**::STALKED::**

"Guys," Aksel said when he finally arrived, "I think I'm bein' domesticated."

Considering the state of Aksel's hair, Eragon was more willing to bet not.

Saphira's lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. "How so?"

Aksel collapsed onto the bench and ran his hands through his hair – making it stand up even more. "I mean I'm in bed before midnight, eat at least three meals a day, 'n' I didn't really get grocery shoppin' before, but now? Oh man."

Saphira's shoulders were shaking. Clearly it was up to Eragon to keep the conversation going.

"And is that...a bad thing?"

Aksel threw his hands up. "I mean – no?" He didn't look all that sure about that. "I mean," he sagged back, "I actually kinda like it?"

"Going grocery shopping?" Eragon asked.

Aksel nodded a little more intently than Eragon thought the question warranted. "Vane somehow makes it not boring! I have no idea how, but damn he does."

Saphira was visibly biting her lip. Eragon was scared to ask her why.

"I think it's great, Aksel," she said.

Aksel blinked at her.

"That he makes you happy."

Aksel pinked slightly. "Aw, thanks, Saph." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "But you gotta tell me if I talk too much about the S.O. Don't wanna make you feel bad."

"Your happiness could never do that, Aksel," Saphira said softly.

Aksel still looked faintly worried.

"Do I miss Thorn? Of course." Her smile was soft and genuine, but the sadness was still visible in her eyes. "But he's protecting his Rider. I respect that."

Aksel wrinkled his nose. "Dunno 'bout that."

"Eragon is no walk in the park either, you know," Saphira felt the need to say.

"Hey!"

"If you don't want me to call you out, then maybe you can stop doing so many stupid things, hm?" Saphira suggested.

"When have I -"

"You sure you wanna ask that question, dude?" Aksel said.

Eragon felt his cheeks heat up. "I was going to say _lately_."

Aksel shook his head. "Not much of an improvement, I don't think."

Judging by the look on Saphira's face, she agreed.

Eragon looked between them. "Sometimes I really wonder if you are my friends."

"Eragon, as your friend it's in my job description to call you out," Saphira said and nudged him.

"Then I'll make sure to remember to return the favour," Eragon told her dryly.

"Good luck with that." Saphira flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Everything I do is flawless."

Aksel spluttered as he got a face full of hair.

"Oh Gods," Saphira clasped her hands over her mouth, "I'm so sorry!"

Eragon laughed.

**::STALKED::**

Eragon was a nervous wreck before the meet.

Brom must have picked up on it, because he said, "There's nothing to be worried about."

Eragon appreciated the effort, but his heart was still pounding a mile a minute. Something that he was uncomfortably aware of that the vampire inside the house in front of him could probably hear.

Brom was the one that knocked. Eragon was grateful for that. He probably wouldn't have been able to.

He felt himself relax slightly when the door opened and Carn's familiar face smiled back at him. The man standing behind Carn was a stranger, however.

"This is my husband," Carn said and gestured at the other man. "Harald."

Eragon forced himself not to swallow. "Hello."

It felt strange to be so nervous considering how unassuming Harald looked. He had the kind of face that looked just a little like everyone and somehow no one at once. Unless he got to know Harald better, Eragon wasn't sure he could pick him out of a line-up. Eragon had a hard time guessing his age, or rather what it had been at Harald's time of death. Mid- to late thirties, probably, though for all Eragon knew he could be over a 100 already.

"You don't smell like him," Harald said. The corner of his eyes looked like they probably crinkled when he smiled. "He's not around." It wasn't a question.

Eragon shook his head in answer.

Harald sighed in what was clearly disappointment. "Baby vamps."

"Harald," Carn said, shaking his head. "Be nice."

"I am perfectly nice," Harald said and even smiled for good measure. "Would you like to come inside?"

Carn sighed deeply.

"There's something inherently wrong about hearing a vampire say that," Brom drawled.

Harald just smiled wider.

Eragon forced himself to look away before he started looking for fangs.

Brom ushered them both inside, closing the door firmly behind them.

Carn led them all into a large open-plan kitchen/living room. The kitchen was clearly modern, but the colours and furniture in the living area blended in with it and made the whole room seem warm and welcoming.

"Take a seat," Carn said. "Tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee," Brom said bluntly. "You know how I take it."

"Black as your soul," Carn said with the air of someone who had heard the phrase many, many times before. He also clearly didn't believe it one bit. He then turned to Eragon.

"Oh, um." Eragon bit at his lip. "Just water, I guess?"

Carn nodded like Eragon just hadn't made a complete fool of himself and went to get things ready.

"What about me?" Harald called after him.

"You can fix something for yourself," was all Carn said. "But no jokes about cracking open a cold one."

Eragon tried not to choke.

Harald's mouth twitched, like he was holding back a smile. He glanced between Eragon and Brom when he said, "Be right back," and followed Carn into the kitchen area.

Soon enough there were sounds coming from the other end of the room, and they weren't all appliance related. Eragon firmly shut them out.

"You all right, boy?"

Eragon blushed. He didn't dare to look at Brom when he said, "He's...not what I was expecting."

Brom made a sound at the back of his throat. "He'll take that as a compliment."

Carn and Harald eventually returned with the drinks. Eragon thanked them for the glass, though he didn't drink from it. He was a little worried he wouldn't stop drinking if he started.

"So, who is this deadbeat mate of yours?" Harald asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

Carn sighed in the same way Eragon remembered his aunt Marian doing whenever she thought her husband had said something particularly thoughtless or stupid. Something inside his chest ached briefly. He decided to ignore it.

"It's probably best if I don't..." Eragon said, trailing off as he looked towards Brom.

Brom was stone-faced. No help to get there, then.

"Besides," Eragon added, "we don't have the best relationship. I'm doing just fine on my own."

Harald looked between Eragon and Brom enough times that Eragon was starting to get a little nervous. "Really?" he said finally.

"Really," Brom deadpanned.

"What are the odds?" Harald shook his head.

Eragon frowned. He had the feeling he was missing something.

Brom must have seen something on his face, because he shook his head and said, "Ask me some other time."

Eragon made a mental note to do just that.

"So," Carn cradled his cup against his chest, "Brom said you have some questions for us?"

Eragon bit at his lip. "Yeah." He took a breath to prepare himself. Then he got started.

**::STALKED::**

"You're a baby-whisperer," Eragon told Katrina.

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

Ren was fast asleep by the time Eragon and Brom returned. It wasn't particularly late, but they had ended up staying longer than Eragon thought they would. Once he'd started asking questions, it was like he didn't know how to stop. He wasn't sure how much of the information he'd retained, but time would tell.

"Has he been down for long?"

Katrina shook her head. "A couple of hours."

Eragon nodded at the form on the couch. "And him?"

Katrina laughed softly. "About as long."

Roran was passed out, limbs splayed in every direction, snoring faintly. His hair was a mess and he was holding onto a pacifier like he was ready to spring into action at any moment.

Katrina smiled. "I really ought to thank you for the free practice."

Eragon checked to make sure Ren was properly tucked in before turning to her. "So you two are thinking about it? Kids?"

"Well, he has to make a proper honest woman out of me first," Katrina said and raised the hand with her engagement band. "But yes. We've been talking about the future a lot lately." She sighed softly. "I've always wanted a daughter."

Eragon was reminded of the conversation he'd had with Roran. He wasn't sure it was his place to bring it up, though. He decided to play it safe instead. "Be careful you don't end up with like seven boys before the girl finally comes along just because our genes are stupid like that."

Katrina laughed softly. She brushed her fingers gently through Roran's hair, though it did nothing to flatten it.

Screw it. If they really were talking about the future, then Katrina probably already knew.

"He's worried, you know."

Katrina's look saddened slightly. "I know," she said. "He shouldn't be. I don't care if we end up having a rugby team of werewolves. I'd love and care for them all."

"You probably need to tell him at least five more times. He doesn't always absorb new knowledge very well."

"Don't I know it," Katrina said dryly.

Eragon frowned.

"The less you know, the better."

Considering the look on Katrina's face, Eragon decided he was better off not asking any questions. There were certain things one didn't want to know about their cousin, let alone one that was practically your pseudo-brother.

**::STALKED::**

Arya and Nasuada had come to visit. Upon seeing that Roran and Katrina were in town, they'd promptly whisked Katrina off. Roran didn't appear to be bothered by that in the least. If anything, he looked relieved to not have Arya hanging over his shoulder.

Roran and Arya had never quite gotten along, though that was mostly because Arya loved to tease him.

Ren was down for a nap and while Eragon would have loved to have followed him, he was just too wired. He didn't know why, but he couldn't relax enough to drift off.

Roran suggested that Eragon's non-existent caffeine intake was to blame while sipping on his own brew. Eragon promptly decided not to ask Roran for help again. Clearly his cousin was an idiot.

"ERAGON BROM RIDER!" Saphira yelled out of the blue and Eragon promptly winced.

Roran choked on his coffee.

Eragon blinked at him.

"Your middle name is Brom?!" Roran said once he caught his breath.

Eragon frowned. "Yeah?"

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"...No?"

"Why?!"

"Why would I?" Eragon felt genuinely confused.

Roran stared at him like he was stupid. "Brom? As in _Brom_?" He gestured wildly at the room they were in.

"Oh." Eragon shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Roran gave him a flat look. "You don't think so?"

"No. I mean," he said, "mom would have left something behind to tell me, right? Or at least told uncle Garrow."

"She could have told my father and he could easily have kept it to himself," Roran pointed out. "If he didn't approve, he definitely would have."

Eragon frowned. "Why wouldn't he have approved?"

Roran opened his mouth to say something – whether it was an answer or a snippy remark, Eragon never got to find out. Because that was when Saphira appeared in the doorway and stared at them. The room temperature easily dropped by ten degrees and Eragon shivered.

"Why didn't you come when I called?" Saphira asked pointedly.

"Roran had a crisis where he thought Brom was my dad," Eragon said and snorted, rubbing his arms to warm up even though he knew it wasn't really necessary. "Sorry I didn't answer. What's up?"

Saphira paused. "You know," she said, "I never thought about it that way."

"Oh, come on, Saph," he groaned. "Not you too."

"I think it's worth asking."

Eragon shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't," he insisted. Though thinking about Brom reminded him that he hadn't asked him about the cryptic comments Brom had made when they'd visited Carn and his husband. But that was a problem for another day. "But seriously, what did I do?"

Saphira looked confused.

"You full-named me," he reminded her.

"Oh." She put a hand on her hip. "You left the window to the bathroom open."

Eragon blinked. "So?"

"Someone is fertilising their farm _somewhere_." Her nose wrinkled. "It stinks in there now."

Eragon frowned. "In the autumn?"

Saphira sighed. "Yes, Eragon."

That didn't make much sense to him, but all right. "I'm sorry. I'll remember to close it next time."

Saphira patted his head as she walked past on her way to the fridge.

"What were you doing in there that you needed the window open for?" Roran asked, eyebrows arched.

Eragon eyed him. "Showering? The ventilation is on a fritz or something, I don't know. It fogs up like crazy otherwise. Why? What else would I be doing?"

Roran didn't answer.

Eragon narrowed his eyes at Roran. Something told him he didn't want to know what Roran was thinking. Some things you didn't come back from.

**::STALKED::**

Eragon walked in on Roran asking Brom a few very pointed questions a few days later and had to usher him out of there. It was stupid. Roran couldn't possibly be right. Just because they all came from Carvahall didn't automatically meant that Brom had known Eragon's mother or that she'd named him after Brom.

Eragon had given up on looking for his father a long time ago. His mother had died in childbirth and his aunt and uncle had done more than a good enough job or raising him. He hadn't missed his parents even during those moments when he had wondered what it would have been like, if they been in his life.

And even if Brom had known his mother, and she'd named him after him, didn't mean Brom was his father.

It couldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carn and Harald are both C.P characters, and both fought for Varden. And they are the elusive vampire couple I've been hinting at since _Obsession,_ but weren't able to use until now.
> 
> As this story is no doubt going to be full of new enemies, so I had to include a few new allies as well, right? lol
> 
> Eragon's middle name is indeed Brom and you can take that to mean what you want. It will be addressed more properly in the story, though, for those looking for me to stop beating around the bush and make things official.


	4. Year One: (Not so) Carefully Laid Plans

_::August::_

After picking up Murtagh's things in Aroughs, they just started walking. Murtagh allowed Thorn to take the lead because he seemed desperate to get them far, far away from what had happened and because Murtagh needed time to think.

That became their status quo for a good couple of weeks. They stuck to walking because they only had so much cash and it gave the Council less of a chance to get eyes on them.

Thorn guided them north first, but went east at Leona Lake. Then they went south again, closer to the border, before veering sharply west and then east. Murtagh allowed the erratic moments because it really did give him time to plan. Plan A hadn't worked, but plan B showed promise.

Murtagh kept working on the plan until they stopped outside a smaller town near the Beor mountains – because apparently Thorn had decided to go with his earlier suggestion. And Thorn probably didn't know it, but he'd just given Murtagh an opportunity he couldn't afford to miss.

"Tell me you have a plan," Thorn said after they'd gotten settled.

"I have an idea," Murtagh corrected.

Thorn squinted at him. "No murder."

Murtagh leaned back against the ramshackle cottage that was going to be their room for the night. "I no longer have an idea," he drawled.

Thorn dropped the bag onto the ground next to them. "...Seriously?"

Murtagh snorted. "No, we're murdering someone."

"Dammit, Murtagh!"

Murtagh held up his hands. "No, hear me out -"

"Murder?! No thank you!"

"Gods, your conscience is such a pain," Murtagh sighed. "Will it help if I say I only plan on murdering the Vampire Council?"

Thorn eyed him. "Not particularly," he said, though his voice told Murtagh he was lying.

"They're not going to stop until I'm either dead or one of them," Murtagh said. There was no doubt in his mind about that. Galbatorix had been far too keen on him. There was no way Murtagh was going to be allowed to live unless it was under his thumb.

Thorn looked tired. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "All right, enlighten me," he said. "How do you plan on murdering a group of ancient vampires easily stronger than the both of us combined?"

Murtagh smirked, making sure to let his fangs slip out. "Like I said. I have a plan."

**::STALKED::**

"This is the worst plan I've ever heard!" Thorn said, pacing around with his hands in the air. "And considering this is you, that's saying something!"

"Ouch," Murtagh deadpanned.

Thorn came to a stop and gestured at him a little desperately. "Werewolves? Your brilliant plan is _werewolves_?"

"They have as much beef with the council as I do," Murtagh reminded him. "Vampires thrive on toxic masculinity and misogyny. Werewolves are matriarchal by default. Their Alphas are always women. Of course they don't get along."

"That sounds like such a stereotype," Thorn said, sounding defeated. He stopped by one of the cleared areas on the floor that was going to double as their beds and sat down heavily. "I can't believe I'm considering this."

"Look, I know I tend to argue for attack first and ask questions later -"

"Don't you mean kill first and ask questions never?" Thorn drawled.

"But!" Murtagh said pointedly. "I have actually thought this through."

Thorn sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "I _can't_ believe I'm actually considering this."

"If it makes you feel any better," Murtagh said as he walked over and sat down on the spot that marked his bed, "you're probably going to be safe from them. Me on the other hand?"

Thorn gave him a dead-eyed stare. "No, that doesn't really help."

Murtagh shrugged. "Well, you can't say I didn't try."

**::STALKED::**

Finding a local pack wasn't going to be the hardest part. It was finding one that wouldn't automatically rip him to shreds.

"I've heard some promising things about a pack not far from here," Murtagh said. "My intel is a few years old, but hopefully still good."

Thorn buried his head in his hands and said some things under his breath that Murtagh was going to do him the courtesy of pretending he couldn't hear. He finally let out a long groan and looked up at Murtagh. "Fine."

"If you don't like that, then you're going to hate this," Murtagh told him. "I need you to come with me."

Thorn blinked at him. "I wouldn't let you go without me, but why?"

"I need these people to think I'm moderately sane and safe. And since I can't go and grab the only other link I have to humanity; congrats, Thorn. You're it."

Thorn eyed him. "One of the other links," he said finally.

Murtagh cocked an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"Links," Thorn repeated. "Plural. Or have you forgotten that you're a father now?"

Murtagh snorted. "As if I could."

Thorn gave him another look. "All right, then let's try to think of a way you don't get instantly mauled by these guys when we come knocking."

"That part is easy." Murtagh flashed his teeth at Thorn. "You do the talking."

Thorn rubbed at his forehead. "No. This is your plan. _You_ do the talking."

"Then I hope you aren't squeamish."

**::STALKED::**

Murtagh had heard talk of a werewolf pack in one of the mountain villages a few years back, when he'd last been down along the Surdan border. He hadn't thought much of it beyond making sure he'd stay clear, in case the pack was hostile.

Now he was wishing he'd paid a little closer attention.

He knew the moment they'd stepped onto pack land. It wasn't something as cliché as a smell in the air or a shiver down his back. It was the paw-prints off in the dirt and the snarl that promised danger.

Murtagh raised his hands and hoped Thorn was following his example. "I come in peace."

There was a long pause.

Murtagh stayed right where he was and hoped Thorn was doing the same. He didn't dare to check. Finally, after what seemed like hours, a figure stepped out from the trees.

Murtagh forced himself to swallow the first five retorts that came to mind. It really wasn't his fault. How was he supposed to take a werewolf with blue hair and an aversion to shirts seriously? Come on.

"You're Murtagh," the werewolf said, eyes glimmering faintly in the dying sunlight. His fangs were on blatant display.

Murtagh made himself keep his own teeth in check. There was no need for something as juvenile as a dick-measuring contest. "That's me," he said instead. "And this is Thorn, my Drake."

The werewolf paused. His eyes slid off Murtagh and landed somewhere behind Murtagh's shoulder, where he could feel Thorn practically radiating worry and regret.

"You're bonded to him?" The werewolf didn't sound very convinced.

Murtagh could picture the look of pained despair on Thorn's face perfectly. "Unfortunately."

Murtagh flashed a smirk – fang-free, of course. "You'll have to excuse him. He doesn't like the antics I get myself into. It makes him worry."

"Any Drake worth their salt would worry about their Rider," the werewolf said and focused his eyes on Murtagh again. "Why have you come?"

"I'm going to take down the Vampire Council," Murtagh said, deciding that there was really no reason to beat around the bunch. "I wondered if your pack might be interested in getting a piece of the action."

**::STALKED::**

The werewolf – he'd called himself Blödhgarm, though Murtagh honestly wasn't sure whether that was his real name or not – had told them to stay on the border while he took the matter to his Alpha.

That had been two hours ago.

The sun had gone down since then, leaving them standing around in the rapidly darkening dusk. Thorn had taken up pacing about an hour in. Murtagh settled for sitting down. It was exhausting enough to watch Thorn take seven steps, turn around, another seven steps, turn around, rinse and fucking repeat.

"If you're this worried about little old me," Murtagh said, "you're going to have a heart-attack when you and Saphira finally decide to reproduce."

Thorn swirled to face him. "That's not funny," he hissed, pointing at him angrily.

Murtagh smirked. "It's a little funny."

Thorn threw his hands up and went back to pacing.

Murtagh closed his eyes and went back to going over his plan again. Getting the werewolves on his side was, honestly, the easy part. The vampire council was well-protected – much more than he'd been anticipating. He wasn't sure what to do about the dragon and really hoped he could find a way around actually dealing with that obstacle. Even if the dragon was brainwashed six ways till Sunday, it was still a dragon. And the last thing Murtagh wanted was to get the draconic community after his ass as well.

Murtagh opened his eyes when he heard Thorn stop.

Blödhgarm had rejoined them.

"She agrees to help you on one condition," Blödhgarm said.

"All right. Let's hear it."

Blödhgarm told him.

Thorn immediately started filling his head with denials, but Murtagh blocked him out. He smirked instead, flashing just a hint of fang. "Sounds like fun."

**::STALKED::**

"You can't be serious!" Thorn said once they were alone again. "You can't agree to that!"

"I think I just did."

"They're going to tear you to pieces," Thorn hissed.

"Not with you there," Murtagh reminded him.

"Which I'm not always going to be!" Thorn gestured at something, though Murtagh wasn't quite sure what. "Or did you forget about the supply run I have to do on my own now?"

"We'll both be fine," Murtagh said.

Thorn rubbed his hands over his face harder than Murtagh thought the situation called for. "I don't know how to handle you being this positive about something," he said. "Especially about something like this."

"So I can't go anywhere without an escort," he drawled. "That's really not a big deal."

"That's within packlands," Thorn reminded him like Murtagh hadn't been listening. "You can't go outside them at all!"

"It's really not that big of a deal," Murtagh said again. He had a feeling he'd be repeating himself a lot. "And even if I could, we both know I wouldn't be snacking on any of the local population. So it's all fine."

Thorn rubbed his hands over his face. "We're going to die."

Murtagh rolled his eyes. Thorn would come around eventually. Murtagh had a plan. Several, in fact. They were going to be fine as long as nothing veered too sharply off course.

**::STALKED::**

The Alpha of the pack was a stern-faced woman who told them to call her Birgit. She had claw marks on every visible part of her body; her face included. The scar at the corner of her mouth probably made her smile look slightly lopsided – that is, if she smiled at all.

Birgit took one look at him and made a face like she'd stepped in a particularly nasty piece of dung.

"So you're Murtagh," she said. She didn't sound the least bit impressed.

"Alpha Birgit," Murtagh returned.

"From the stories I've heard, one would think you'd cut a more impressive figure," she continued flatly. "Instead you're nothing but a baby vamp."

Murtagh knew what she was doing. She wanted to see if he would attack if she riled him up enough. That had been the old Murtagh, however. He wouldn't have hesitated to go for her throat. Present-day Murtagh found her insults amusing.

"And you're nothing but an old fleabag."

Thorn made a wheezing sound like someone had punched him in the solar plexus.

Murtagh ignored him. He could tease Thorn about that later.

Birgit narrowed her eyes at him. She studied him for a long moment, during which Thorn started to chatter worriedly in Murtagh's head, prompting him to apologise already, before finally ending Thorn's suffering.

"Blödhgarm will take you to where you will be staying."

Murtagh kept his eyes on Birgit when he said, "How kind of him."

Blödhgarm appeared by his elbow as if summoned. Murtagh forced himself not to startle.

Thorn, however, didn't quite manage to do the same.

Blödhgarm didn't speak. He just looked at them before walking off, heading right for the tight grouping of werewolves that had surrounded them since the moment they'd stepped past the trees that shielded the outer edge of the packland from the small village they lived in. Blödhgarm guided them through crowd. The werewolves stepped out of the way just enough for Murtagh and Thorn to pass, but not an inch more. It was undoubtedly an intimidation technique and Murtagh wasn't going to let it work on him.

Rather than the edge of the packland, where Murtagh assumed more welcome – not to mention trusted – guests would have been placed, Blödhgarm guided them to a smaller cabin just outside another cluster of cabins. If Murtagh were anyone else, he'd give them a mental apology for getting stuck keeping an eye on him and Thorn.

The cabin was simplistic and likely built by the pack, just like the rest of the buildings. There weren't any windows as such, just shutters. If they ended up staying a while, Murtagh could only hope there were enough blankets to go around in the winter months. Because the truth was that he didn't know how long he'd need to win the pack's trust. He needed them if he had any hopes of making the Council stop coming after him.

**::STALKED::**

Murtagh didn't sleep that night. Instead he waited for Thorn to finally pass out before climbing out of the window and onto the roof.

The little pseudo-village was completely silent. Not a single lantern was lit, though Murtagh doubted everyone was asleep. There were likely guards patrolling the edge of the packland – not just because they now had a vampiric guest, but because that was what werewolves did.

He lay down on the flat grass-lined roof and stared up at the skies.

He tried to keep his mind empty, but it inevitably kept returning to the reason they were there. The Council had been a spectre hovering behind his shoulder since before he'd known of their existence. When he died, he had to make sure he thanked his dear old dad for that. If they ended up in the same underworld, that was. Unless underworlds allowed the deceased in one plane to visit someone else on another?

No, probably not.

He briefly considered the idea of sending Thorn off for good. So long as he convinced the werewolves to act soon, he wouldn't need Thorn to go into the fray with him. He could go off and be with his mate finally.

Only, the Council had a dragon. So then maybe he did need Thorn. A well-placed fireball worked wonders, after all.

Murtagh sighed.

Something he'd never dared to explore was whether his bond to Thorn allowed him to tap into the magic that usually followed. Considering the fact that he was a vampire, it felt he wouldn't. But why wouldn't he? What sort of twisted logic said that only humans, elves and dwarves would be able to benefit from the Rider-Drake bond? He had been born into his race, same as them.

Hmm. Food for thought. Though he'd still have to convince Thorn that exploring the possibility would be a good idea. And that, he knew, was going to be easier said than done.

**::STALKED::**

Thorn stared at him the following week, when he brought the subject up.

One thing had quickly become clear. The Alpha wasn't interested in speaking with him again until he passed some kind of unknown test – or maybe until she was willing to let his comment slide. But Murtagh wasn't good at waiting around.

"You want to what?" Thorn said, clearly hoping that Murtagh had been joking.

"Practice magic. You know, the thing that's supposed to come with a Rider-Drake bond."

Thorn's eye twitched. "You've never..." he started, but clearly couldn't make himself finish.

"No, I've never," Murtagh admitted. "But I've never had the motivation that I have now."

Thorn slowly reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you couldn't have come to this startling realisation when we were at the Teller house?" he said, voice tired. "Or when Vanir could easily reach us?"

"Nah. That would've been too easy."

Thorn's eye twitched again. "You know that's not going to be a walk in the park, right?"

"Yes."

"I don't even know if our bond is strong enough," Thorn said. He was starting to sound a little desperate.

"Then this'll be a great time to find out."

Thorn pressed his lips together.

"Of course," Murtagh began, "if you don't want to -"

"No," Thorn interrupted. "No, you're right. We should check. It could come in handy." It looked like the words pained him deeply.

Murtagh did him the courtesy of not calling him out on it.

"I'll just...let our hosts know what we're up to," Thorn said before walking off, looking like he'd rather be heading to his execution.

Murtagh, meanwhile, decided to start looking around for a perfect place to practice.

**::STALKED::**

With the reluctant approval from the Alpha – who clearly hadn't minded speaking to Thorn even though she wouldn't so much as look at Murtagh – they began.

There was a clearing behind their one-room cabin, perfectly suited their needs. The trees were far enough away that they didn't have to worry about accidentally scorching them, though the same couldn't be said for the grass. And the other cabins were close enough that they could be seen, but not so close that they should suffer from any wayward spells either.

That was, if Murtagh could get the damn magic to work.

"I told you it wouldn't be -"

"Yes, yes, you told me," Murtagh snapped.

After days of trying and not so much as a flicker through the bond, it was starting to feel hopeless.

"Maybe we should wait until after my supply run," Thorn suggested again. "I can ask Vanir for advice."

Murtagh scoffed. "I'm not going to owe that asshole more than I already do."

Thorn sighed. "This is why you have so few friends, Murtagh."

"What, my winning personality?" he drawled sarcastically. "If they can't handle me at my worst, they don't deserve me at my best."

Thorn sighed again.

Murtagh closed his eyes and tried to concentrate again.

Thorn was a shit teacher, he'd decided. He hadn't needed to be taught how to use his innate magic. Thorn, apparently, just needed to think of something and it'd happen. And sure, he'd just had to teach himself control as not to overdo things like start forest fires when he wanted to light a camp-fire, but that wasn't the same.

Murtagh tried to empty his head of unnecessary thoughts. Picturing what he'd like to do to the Council was fun and all, but maybe not necessary right this moment.

He didn't need to breathe as often, but he found himself focusing on it nonetheless. The slow up-and-down movement of his chest wasn't as distracting as thinking of non-violent things to do to Thorn for actually _saying_ 'I told you so.'

Murtagh tried, once again, to picture a small flame. It didn't need to be big. If a single strand of grass caught fire, then he'd consider it a success.

All he needed was to prove that the possibility was there. That he could do what Vanir, damn that guy, was able to do with only himself as a conduit. At least old man Teller had a broken Rider bond he drew from. Vanir being able to perform magic just felt like a slap in the face.

But he was losing concentration again. Dammit.

Fire.

Fire gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Wait, no, that was _all_ wrong. And where had that even come from?

Never mind. That was not what was important.

All he wanted was a tiny flame. Just one tiny little flame; golden hued, more white and yellow than red. A single flame, flickering stubbornly in the wind and refusing to go out against all odds.

Like a pair of whisky-coloured eyes he could picture even in his sleep.

He smelled the smoke before he realised what was going on. He opened his eyes.

The ground in front of him was on fire. And it wasn't a tiny fire, either; it was easily as big as funeral pyre. The flames were the colour of Thorn's scales and sparkled just like them.

He'd done it.

Murtagh felt himself start to laugh.

"MURTAGH!" Thorn cried out, possibly not for the first time either. Murtagh couldn't really be sure. He was too busy staring at the fire and laughing.

Thorn transformed between one blink and the next and lay himself flat on top of the fire. It went out instantly, as most fires would if a huge dragon flattened themselves on top of them.

Murtagh only started to laugh harder.

He laughed until he found himself on his back, staring up at the slowly darkening skies. He bared his teeth in what no one would have mistaken for a smile as he caught his breath. _Watch out, Galbatorix,_ he thought to himself. _I'm coming for you next._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I have to include "I have a plan" "no murder" "I no longer have a plan" exchange? Well, no, but I thoroughly enjoyed it lol. I feel for Thorn, really. Murtagh is a lot to deal with. He might be...better now, but he's forever going to be guy that suggests unaliveing someone (to quote good old Deadpool) if said someone is in their way.
> 
> A note on the werewolves that will be included in this; if I use a name, 9/10 that's going to be an IC character. I've used Blödhgarm in the past, and I do enjoy referencing his blue hair (seriously, C.P. wth). Birgit is the woman that vowed revenge on Roran in canon because the Razac killed (and ate, I'm pretty sure) her husband, and she considered his fault they were there or something.
> 
> And because I'm a terrible human being, there is indeed a Disney reference in this part. I won't even commend you if you find it because it's honestly hideous and I should be taken out back and shot for adding it.
> 
> ...I'll just see myself out.


	5. Year One: Not All News is Good News

_::August-September::_

Katrina hugged him tightly, almost too tightly.

Eragon knew better than to struggle. He hugged her back and settled in for however long it was going to take her to feel done.

"We'll keep in better touch this time," she said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eye. "No more avoiding our calls."

Eragon still felt guilty about how thoroughly he'd shut out his remaining family last year. He'd been too preoccupied with keeping them safe and out of the way to think about what his silence was doing to them. "Yeah, I promise."

"Good." Katrina hugged him again, luckily not for nearly as long.

She tried to fix his hair, but gave up before Eragon could remind her how helpless it was. She gave him a smile instead before turning to Ren and spending a good while just cooing over his son, saying all sorts of things that Eragon forced himself to block out. He agreed that his son was adorable, but going to such length about his fingers and toes felt a little...excessive.

Roran, being a man of action rather than words, settled for saying goodbye by patting him on the back so hard that Eragon almost fell over. "Take care of yourself, cousin," he said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

Eragon scowled at him. "You too, cousin."

Roran smirked at him.

Katrina sighed as she linked her arm with Roran's. "I want babies, Rory."

Roran blinked.

"At least three," she said almost airily as she started to pull him towards the door. "Maybe four, then we could have two of each. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Eragon deeply enjoyed the flash of panic that overtook Roran's expression as they left.

**::STALKED::**

Brom started to look at him differently after Katrina and Roran left. Eragon didn't know what to make of it, but it was definitely unsettling him. The problem was that he didn't know how to bring up the subject either. For all that they'd been through together, he wouldn't say that they were close.

Eragon knew their – friendship? acquaintanceship? – was strange. Brom had been his teacher, for crying out loud, and now Eragon was living with him. He'd never asked why Brom had taken them in and by now Eragon was almost afraid to ask. It wasn't just because the situation had gone unquestioned for so long already, but because...Brom could be a very scary man to question, even on the most innocuous of topics.

He wasn't sure what had made Brom choose the teaching profession, but it couldn't be because someone had once told him he had a friendly face.

"Eragon?"

He blinked and found that Saphira had entered the bedroom at some point while Eragon hadn't been looking. "Oh, hi Saph."

"Hi," she returned.

Ren immediately focused on her. He babbled and reached up towards her.

"You were miles away," Saphira said as she folded herself into a seated position next to him on the floor. She smiled at Ren and let Ren have one of her hands to play with.

Eragon shook his head. "Yeah, sorry."

"No need to apologise." Saphira wiggled her fingers, much to Ren's visible and audible delight.

"I was just thinking, I guess." Eragon shifted to make sure his hand stayed behind Ren at all times.

At nine months, Ren was moving a lot more than Eragon thought babies did at that age. He was already crawling around and was liable to try to disappear if Eragon didn't keep an eye out. Ren was also getting a handle on staying upright for longer, but he still got tired and started to sway with almost no warning. Eragon knew he was probably worrying about nothing, but he still wanted to make sure Ren didn't get hurt if he could be there to stop it.

"What about?"

Ren babbled in answer.

Saphira laughed. "You don't say?" she said teasingly to Ren, tickling under his chin with her other hand. "You hear that, Eragon? Even your son thinks you think too hard."

Eragon exaggerated his pout. "Ganged up on." He bounced Ren in his lap and made sure to deepen his pout when he looked at his son. "By my own family, even."

Ren smiled and shrieked a laugh.

Saphira didn't even try to hide that she was also laughing at Eragon.

"Traitors, the both of you," Eragon stated, blowing a raspberry into Ren's belly to Ren's delight.

"We just don't want you to get premature wrinkles, isn't that right, Renny?" Saphira said with a wink directed at Ren.

Ren babbled and clapped his hands.

"Ugh." Eragon shifted his grip on Ren and stood. Ren shrieked eagerly at their new height. "You two are going to be the death of me."

Saphira followed them into the living room. "Do you want me to get started on a bottle for him?"

"It's like you read my mind," Eragon said wryly. Ren wasn't complaining about hunger yet, but Eragon knew it was only a matter of time. "But grab one of the baby-jars instead. He liked the banana one last time."

Saphira looked amused. "Who is he getting that from?"

"Not from me, that's for sure," Eragon drawled as he wrangled into the baby-chair.

It was still a little surreal to think about; that Brom had gone out and gotten a baby-chair for Ren. Eragon was still waiting for someone to jump out and scream 'PUNK'D!' at him. It certainly made more sense than reality did sometimes.

Saphira handed him the jar and a spoon. Eragon thanked her.

Ren's eyes immediately went to the jar as Eragon struggled with opening it. Parenthood, he was learning, featured a lot of censoring. He hadn't cursed a lot before – at least, he didn't think so – but now he longed to let out a steady stream without worrying about corrupting his child.

"Do you need help?"

Eragon could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

"No, I got it," Eragon said a split second before the lid almost flew out of his hands.

Saphira laughed, which made Ren laugh.

Eragon sighed. He sat down next to Ren and prepared himself for a half-hour of trying to convince his child to eat the food rather than wear it.

Saphira ran her fingers through his hair fondly. "Parenthood suits you."

Eragon tried not to blush at the sudden compliment. "Thanks?"

She shook her head before turning her attention to Ren. She pressed a loud and mostly theatrical kiss to the top of his head, where his hair was fine and surprisingly dark. Most days, Eragon tried not to think about where the colour came from. Other days he almost found that he didn't mind.

"But you know you can talk to me, right?" she prompted.

"Yeah, I know," Eragon said automatically as he held a spoon out for Ren to study.

"But will you?" she prodded.

Eragon hesitated. He knew there was only one answer that Saphira would accept that he was also willing to give. "We can talk later."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Saphira warned him.

"You always do."

Saphira luckily left it at that. Then it was just Eragon and Ren in the kitchen.

Eragon sighed and shook his head quickly. "All right, Ren, do you want to try eating with your mouth this time?"

**::STALKED::**

"I have news from Thorn," Vanir said when he and Aksel visited. In fact, those were the first words out of his mouth. He didn't even bother with empty pleasantries. Sometimes Eragon really didn't see what Aksel saw in him, but knew better than to ask. "They're going underground."

Saphira looked heartbroken.

Eragon reached out and Saphira didn't hesitate to grab his hand. Aksel immediately made his way over and sacrificed one of his hand for the cause. Eragon mouthed a quick 'thank you' to him.

"Did he say why?" Eragon asked.

Vanir wrinkled his nose as he settled down next to Aksel. "No." And he clearly wasn't happy about that. "I intend to question him much more thoroughly the next time I see him."

Saphira's hand tightened around his – and likely Aksel's too, judging by the faint grimace on his face.

"Can you give him a message for me?" she asked.

Vanir's expression softened ever so slightly. Eragon wouldn't have believed it possible if he hadn't been there to see it. "Certainly."

Eragon had no idea how, but Saphira somehow managed to look both despaired and relieved.

"I will let you know when I plan to see him," Vanir told her. "To give you time to prepare."

"Thank you," she said.

Vanir just nodded to her.

"What about Murtagh's supplies?" Eragon asked. Even if he wasn't head over heels in love with the vampire, he didn't want him to starve to death either. At least, Eragon didn't think so.

"I'll be making regular drops to a location closer to where they've gone into hiding," Vanir explained. "I can travel far more inconspicuously than a Drake or a vampire."

Eragon had to admit that it made sense. Still, he was devastated on Saphira's behalf. The supply-runs would have been her once chance to see her mate until fate stopped conspiring to keep them apart, and now that was gone. It wasn't fair.

"But he was all right the last time you saw him?" Saphira prodded.

"He was healthy," Vanir replied, which wasn't exactly what Saphira had been asking and they all knew it.

Saphira clenched her jaw. Her eyes were wet, but she seemed adamant to keep them from falling. Eragon gripped her hand tighter.

Vanir shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "I will let you know when I am due to leave."

Saphira just nodded in answer.

Aksel and Vanir left soon thereafter. Aksel hugged Saphira before he left, but it was a short one that Saphira only halfway returned. It wasn't until the door closed behind Aksel's back that she broke down and cried into Eragon's chest.

**::STALKED::**

Saphira tried to put on a brave face after that, but it was clear that the news had affected her deeply.

Eragon was tempted to tell her to go after Thorn, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Not only did they have no idea where Thorn was, but he knew Saphira wouldn't leave – no matter how much she may want to. She'd tried to explain how the Rider-Drake bond felt to her once, but Eragon knew he hadn't fully understood it. What he did understand was that being away from Eragon for long made her feel deeply uncomfortable in some way, like she couldn't settle.

Reminding himself of it almost made him tempted to offer to go with her. If it hadn't been for Ren, he might have made the offer in earnest – no matter how conflicted the thought of seeing Murtagh again made him feel. Saphira deserved happiness and Eragon hated that he was a part of the reason she was being deprived of hers.

Instead of making an offer that would probably just break both of their hearts, Eragon tried to think of other something that – even if it couldn't cheer her up – might take her mind off things. It took him a while to think of something. In fact, it wasn't until he was walked in on Brom going through the routine of checking and strengthening the wards that something came to him. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Brom do the rounds, let alone magic, but it felt like the first time he could stop and watch without there being some danger or other taking up the majority of his attention.

Eragon didn't know why he and Saphira hadn't tapped that deeply into their bond. It had never occurred to him, not even while they were practically fighting for their lives. It hadn't even occurred to him that maybe he should have a weapon, like the sword he knew Brom kept in his library (of all places). But Eragon was a father now. He had to think differently – more proactively – if he wanted to keep himself and his son safe.

Not to mention, maybe watching him try (and likely fail a lot) to learn magic would cheer Saphira up a bit.

"Would you teach me?"

Brom looked away from what he was doing, though his hands never faltered.

He licked his lips and pressed on. "Magic."

Brom visibly paused. He stopped moving his hands. The flicker in his palm slowly faded away.

Eragon battled with the urge to take it back. He couldn't, he reminded himself. Learning magic would only help in the long run. There was no shame in asking for help. And if Brom wouldn't – or couldn't – help, then maybe Saphira could.

"You want to learn?"

There was something in Brom's voice that Eragon couldn't identify. It didn't sound bad, however, so he nodded.

"It won't be easy," Brom warned him.

"Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy," Eragon heard himself say.

Brom frowned as if on command.

Eragon blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," was the immediate reply. There was a short pause before Brom asked, "Where did you hear that?"

Eragon shrugged. "My uncle used to say it. It was something he learned from his parents, I think." He bit at his lip. "I'm not sure whether he said it was his mom or dad, though."

Brom's frown deepened. His eyes were glazed over, as if his mind was somewhere far away. Eragon waited for him to speak, but Brom seemed lost in his own world.

"Brom?"

There was a moment where Eragon could practically picture Brom shaking himself, for all that the only thing he'd done was blink.

"Hm?"

Eragon swallowed and made himself ask again. "Will you teach me?"

Brom was silent for a long moment before he said, "Yes."

He forced himself not to hug Brom in sheer elation. "I'll go and tell Saphira right now!" he said instead and was halfway out of the room before he remembered to say, "Thank you, Teach!"

He was out of the room before it occurred to him to linger to see if Brom had anything else to say, but shook the thought out of his mind. There was plenty of time for that later. Cheering Saphira up – not to mention finally doing something with the time he didn't spend with his son – was far more pressing.

**::STALKED::**

As Eragon had predicted, his decision to awaken his magic had gotten Saphira out of her shell a little. She was adamant about being with him as Brom tried to teach him. She seemed excited about the project – at least as excited as Eragon had seen her in a while.

Magic, however, turned out to be not as easy to learn as one might assume. At least, that was what Brom would have him believe, considering Eragon hadn't even tried to do any magic yet. It had been weeks and all Brom had let him do was meditate.

Meditate!

He knew Brom had explained what he was meant to accomplish by meditating, but Eragon still largely failed to see the point. Eragon was tempted to make a Star Wars reference, but Brom likely wouldn't get it. Also, being forced to explain it would kill the mood – and possibly Eragon, depending on how Brom would take being compared to a small, green creature that spoke half in riddles, half backwards.

When he'd told Saphira that, he's gotten a laugh out of her. He was pretty pleased about that.

But for all that Saphira wanted to be there with him for every step of his magical journey, there was a baby in the house that wouldn't always stay asleep when Eragon was busy. Luckily Saphira adored Ren and was more than happy to watch him when Nasuada and Arya were too busy. Aksel had offered a few times, but everyone agreed that he should never watch Ren alone. He clearly wasn't ready for that. And Vanir, as responsible as he was, was not equipped to deal with childcare just yet. Eragon wished them the best of luck if they ever decided to have kids.

It was one of the rare times it was just him and Brom that Eragon was reminded of something; questions he hadn't asked Brom yet.

He snuck a look at Brom. Unlike him, Brom seemed to have no problems falling into a meditative state. He looked calm and almost serene where he was sitting. He even looked younger.

"Eragon."

Of course, just because he was meditating didn't mean he'd clocked out. Eragon had learned that the hard way earlier.

"Sorry."

Eragon tried to go back to his tenth or so attempt to meditate that day, but it just wasn't working. The questions were nagging at him, like they blamed him for forgetting about them for so long.

He worried his bottom lip and snuck another peek at Brom. "Are we ever going to talk about what happened at Carn's place?" he made himself ask.

Silence.

For once, Brom didn't automatically berate him for failing to meditate properly. He opened his eyes and looked towards Eragon instead. There was something in his eyes that Eragon didn't quite know how to decipher. "I said you could ask me later," Brom reminded him. "You never did."

Eragon fiddled with his hands and tried not to look down in shame. "I don't want to pressure you into talking about something you don't want to."

Brom barked a laugh. "You could never pressure me, kid."

Eragon found himself spending a few moments just staring at Brom. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard the man laugh. He forced himself to look away before Brom could ask what the hell he was looking at.

"Do you want to talk now?" he suggested, glancing back quickly.

Brom arched an eyebrow like he knew Eragon was trying to get out of his meditation lessons but was willing to overlook it just this one.

"A long, long time ago, I met Morzan," Brom said instead of giving Eragon a proper answer. Or maybe that was Brom's answer. Maybe the conversation at Carn's house had been about Morzan. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

Eragon nodded, forcing himself not to lean forward eagerly.

"I've always known I only escaped with my life by some whim of his." Brom's face was carefully blank, as though he didn't want to show Eragon what he was really thinking. "I was at a disadvantage during our...meeting. I wouldn't have been able to overpower him."

The idea of anyone being able to overpower Brom seemed incomprehensible to Eragon. He'd seen how powerful Brom was. Even if Morzan had been a vampire, it was still hard to wrap his head around anyone being able to get the better of Brom.

"I've always wondered, in the aftermath, how Murtagh was able to kill him so easily only a few months after that encounter," Brom said. His hands, which were clasping his knees, looked to be hanging on tighter than Eragon thought was strictly necessary. "While Murtagh was here, he was kind enough to let me in on the secret."

Eragon tried not to gasp out loud.

"Morzan had been wasting away. Murtagh suspected he'd met his mate and been in denial about it ever since." Brom paused like he was considering whether to share more or not. "Murtagh said he thought it had been me."

It was only through sheer force of will that Eragon didn't choke on air. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that! "What do you think?" he found himself asking.

Brom looked conflicted. "I think it fits the timeline."

Eragon made the decision then and there not to ask what else Brom thought about that. After all, what would anyone think if they learned they'd been mated to someone long since gone – never mind if they were a vampire or not? But, considering it had been a vampire, and considering the history Brom was only hinting at, Eragon wouldn't have been surprised if most of what Brom felt was relief.

He decided to steer the conversation away from what was clearly dangerous waters. "So then Harald's comment was directed at..."

"You and me," Brom answered. "And our luck in landing a vampire mate from the same bloodline."

Eragon put his arms around himself.

"Any other questions?"

He shook his head. The only thing he could think about was the fact that Murtagh's father had been Brom's mate – no matter how fleetingly. It was mindboggling!

"Good," Brom said. "Then you won't mind going back to meditating."

Eragon stared at him. He expected Eragon to go back to meditating after all that?!

"Whatever you're thinking about right now can wait until tomorrow, when I'll be busy with other things." Brom waved at him. "Go on. Back as you were."

Eragon sighed. He didn't know why he was surprised to learn that Brom was a strict taskmaster. After all, he had been taught by him before.

**::STALKED::**

Eragon hadn't been to visit his mother in a while. With the chaos of becoming pregnant with Ren, it was probably almost two years since he'd darkened the doorstep of the graveyard – so to speak.

A part of him had been worried that he would have forgotten the way to his mother's headstone, but he worried for no reason. His feet guided him there with ease.

Ren was with Saphira for the afternoon. She'd agreed to give him a few hours with his mother without him even having to really ask. He was truly blessed to have Saphira in his life and he knew it. The fact that she was a Drake didn't even factor into it. She was his friend and family more than anything else.

Eragon sighed as he sat down next to the headstone. He brushed some fallen leaves away from the low-maintenance flowers and shrubbery. He reminded himself to water them before he left.

"Hi, mom."

A late-summer breeze whistled through the trees. It was almost enough for him to pretend she was answering him.

"It's been a while," he said. "I'm sorry about that. Life's been kind of crazy lately."

He started to tell her everything that had happened since his last visit; meeting Murtagh, finding out he was pregnant, the fact that he was Murtagh's mate. He made sure to keep it PG, in case anyone else happened to visit the graveyard and caught an earful.

"I think you'd like Ren," he said. "I should have brought a picture, but I keep forgetting to take any with my phone. I'll make sure to bring a few next time, all right?"

Eragon didn't know what his mother had been like, but he imagined that she would have loved him – and her grandson, of course. He wished he could have met her, but he almost wished she could have met her grandson more.

"I'm trying to learn magic," he told her. "It's...or, well, I'm hoping to learn magic. So far Brom's only let me sit around and meditate a bunch."

Eragon folded his hands in his lap.

"There are so many things I don't know about you," he whispered. "I wish I'd thought to ask uncle Garrow more before he died."

The wind was silent.

"I wish I'd gotten to know you, mom," he said. "I've barely even seen pictures of you, but from uncle Garrow's grumblings you had to have been popular with the boys. I'm not sure if I inherited any of your features, but I wish I knew. And I wish I knew if I could see you in Ren's features. I wish -" he cut himself off and sighed. There was no use in wishing for things that would never come to pass.

He just sat there for a moment, staring out into the distance.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually his knees started to protest. He got up and brushed himself off.

"I'll be back soon, mom. I promise."

Eragon made sure to water the plants and tick off dead flowers and leaves before heading back home. That was the least he could do for the mother he'd never known.

**::STALKED::**

"Do I want to know?" Arya commented when she and Nasuada came for a visit.

Eragon tried not to blush too obviously. Judging from the look on their faces, he didn't quite succeed. "I'm trying to learn magic."

"Emphasis on trying," Brom said dryly.

Eragon felt himself blush harder.

Brom had finally let him reach in and tap into the Dragon-Rider bond and Eragon had, of course, managed to ensure that Brom would never try to teach him anything ever again.

At least, Eragon thought, he'd only burst the pipes in the one room. The rest of the house hadn't been touched. Small mercies.

Arya looked surprisingly gleeful for someone standing in what could have been described as a large puddle. At least Nasuada seemed to understand that there was nothing funny about almost flooding the part of someone's house.

"Next time, we'll call ahead," Nasuada said. "We could have brought some mops. Maybe a bucket or two."

Brom waved them off. "We have supplies."

"How about some helping hands, then?" she offered instead.

How about the floor just opened up and swallowed Eragon whole? He'd rather have that.

Saphira patted his shoulder gently. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."

Eragon just groaned.

"Come on," Brom barked. "This water isn't going to clean itself."

Saphira guided him over to where Brom had been dropping various cleaning supplies for them to use to save what had once been a guest bathroom. Eragon hadn't even known someone could own so many buckets.

Arya cackled in the background. Eragon forced himself not to listen to what she, Nasuada and Brom were saying for the sake of his own sanity.

"Do you think this is deep enough to drown in?" Eragon asked as he grabbed a bucket and prepared to get to work.

Saphira hit him over the head with a mop. "Don't you dare!"


End file.
